


SCENES FROM AN UNWRITTEN STORY (3)

by vanhunks



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 21:24:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7986739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanhunks/pseuds/vanhunks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A third scene from this series, told from Tom Paris' POV. As the nearest to a medic on Voyager, he is in sick bay when Janeway and Chakotay are transported there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	SCENES FROM AN UNWRITTEN STORY (3)

**Author's Note:**

> Tom's POV. My thanks to Beawild, who enquired as to Voyager "taking some kind of revenge" for what the ailens did to Kathryn.

* * *

The anger had risen in him, bourgeoning like a giant mushroom until it felt he would burst. Anger and more anger and layered between these two, the nameless compassion for what he was witnessing. The sickbay, to which he'd been called moments after the transport, was plunged in half illumination.

Somewhere at the back of his mind, he imagined the EMH had done it so that the unspeakable horror at what had been done to two bodies could be muted, made less horrible. But it wasn't working. In fact, the terror was increased a thousand times more.

The EMH had simply waved him to tend to the captain while Chakotay's battered body lay on the main biobed. No words were spoken between them, for they worked in seething silence, if the EMH could actually express such an emotion.

Captain Janeway tried frantically to tear away from him to move to Chakotay's side. He realised she was thickly covered in two sets of uniforms. Tom guided her to the next bed, but she was near demented as she cried out.

"He can't be dead! Help him, please!" were her agonised words. "Help him!"

Then she, herself critically injured, her body wasted, tried to disengage from him, tried to break free of his hold to be with Chakotay. Tom shook his head and simply lifted her in his arms, the movement itself causing her to cry out in pain. He laid her down on the other bed. Her eyes beseeched, wild eyes in which he witnessed the terror of their ordeal. Eyes which masked only temporarily the shame of what had happened to her. He touched her cheek reassuringly.

"Commander Chakotay is in the best hands, Captain. Please, you are in great pain," he told her before he administered a sedative. 

She'd given him another stricken look. He heard the EMH's voice, that Chakotay was still alive. The captain must have heard the doctor for she gave an almighty sigh before losing consciousness.

Then he began removing the two uniforms, layer by layer, becoming increasing agitated at the dirty, soiled, blood-soaked pants. He knew instinctively that Chakotay used his own uniform and dressed her to keep her warm.  Yet, it did nothing to conceal what must have been a gang rape of Janeway.

"Father God in heaven…" he murmured as he removed the last piece of clothing and stared at the captain's body. Multiple bruising, broken ribs, fractured pelvis, scarred pelvic area, deep scarring of her breasts. Then… Tom,  blinking back tears of rage, closed his eyes and murmured an old earth supplication that God help him and her. "God," he  murmured softly, "help me repair this lady…"

He recorded her injuries on the medical tricorder, then began the slow, agonising process of healing bone and flesh as he unerringly reached for the various instruments that would make Janeway good again.

The bile rose in him, threatened to undo him and make him throw up. He swallowed hard to suppress the urge to gag. Janeway's injuries… He damned those animals in an unceasing litany of twentieth century invectives as he began repairing her body, abused almost beyond repair. How was she even able to stand? How had she lived through this? How had she and Chakotay survived? he wondered as he tended to her with the utmost care, not daring to express his rage out loud.

"Doc…" he began, but stopped as he saw the EMH engaged in his own battle to save Chakotay's life.

Tom resumed his treatment. He had to look at her body. It was inevitable. He was the nearest to being a medic on Voyager, the only other person allowed in sickbay when Janeway had hailed them in a thready voice. He wanted to weep as her colour slowly returned, when her skin appeared taut again, when no sign of the external ravaging of her body was visible anymore.  

Finally he dressed the captain in a blue hospital gown, administered another painkiller, then pulled a blanket over her. She had not once opened her eyes while he treated her. She gave a gentle sigh before turning on her side and curling in a foetal position. The captain, he knew, was a long, long way from recovering.

Tom turned his attention to the main biobed where the EMH was busy with Chakotay. The Boss as most of the senior staff called him, looked if anything, worse than the captain. He must have sustained internal injuries, head trauma. His skin was blotched. When Tom had entered the sick bay earlier, he'd seen the angry cuts on Chakotay's body, seen two or three ribs sticking out, his leg bent at an unnatural angle.

"How is he, Doc?"

"He'll make it. Given the severe concussion he also suffered, it's a miracle Commander Chakotay  remained lucid enough to take care of the Captain and protect her, Mr Paris."

"And typical of the captain to want to see Chakotay treated first. 

"She thought he'd died, remember? The truth is, he'd stopped breathing. That added to her trauma. Captain Janeway sounded hysterical when she hailed Voyager. It's possible the aliens had returned to kill her. How is she now, Mr Paris?"

"I've repaired her body. There'll be major stiffness when she wakes. We should keep her here for at least three or four days for regenerated skin and reset bones to heal properly. Her pelvis was broken. She's settled now. Though the way she's lying in a foetal position is indicative of the extreme trauma she had suffered."

The EMH nodded severely. "Recovery, Mr Paris, is going to be a journey. They will need the support of everyone on board."

"And they - " Tom's response was cut short when his commbadge beeped.

"Tuvok to Lieutenant Paris. Please report to the bridge."

"Acknowledged. Doc, our patients are in your capable hands now," Tom said before hastily heading for the sickbay doors.

**

The moment Tom entered the bridge, he knew something was wrong. He indicated with a nod of his head that Hamilton remain at the conn while he stationed himself next to Harry at Ops.

"What's up?" he asked.

"We've detected a space ship aft of starboard side, Mr Paris. They are closing in," Tuvok reported.

"Harry?"

"By their configurations, it's the same signals of the distress call that came from the planet where the Captain and Commander were ambushed."

By the time Harry finished, the rage had already burgeoned in Tom again. He kept seeing the command team's broken bodies, kept seeing Chakotay, despite multiple leg fractures, standing at the mouth of the cave trying to hail Voyager, still managing to protect the captain. How had Chakotay done it? How?

And all Tom wanted to do right now was blast the alien vessel out of the sky and reduce it to cosmic dust.

He glanced back at Tuvok who sat in the captain's chair.

"Commander?"

"Ten minutes. Shields up!"

Magnus Rollins, at tactical immediately complied. Then he added, "They have superior phaser banks, Commander. We might not be a match for them."

"Well then," Tom blustered angrily, "we could surprise them."

"Mr Paris, please apprise us of the status of Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay - "

"They'll live, Commander. You have imaginations," he suddenly yelled, "then imagine the worst! Chakotay saved the captain's life. They are both critical. I'd like to shoot those bastards to hell, gone and back."

"Commander," Rollins said, "we could increase our firepower if we take out two shuttles. The Delta Flyer is carrying a photon torpedo and the upgraded Sacajawea will provide enough distraction."

By the time Harry yelled "Fifty thousand kilometres", Tom was already in the turbolift.

"Paris to Seven of Nine, meet me in shuttle bay 2!"

****

So it happened that Tom Paris at the helm of the Delta Flyer and Seven of Nine piloting the Sacajawea could surround the alien vessel. The aliens fired first, just the encouragement they needed to fire at will. The location of the aliens' phaser banks revealed, Voyager fired from dead ahead, damaging the enemy vessel.

Tom brought the Flyer in aft of the alien vessel. He didn't want to know what they looked like, didn't want to see their faces, didn't want to feel sorry as their vessel's nacelles provided a perfect target. Then he fired the torpedo.

"You bastards! That's what you get for what you did to our Captain. Filthy cowards!"

Seconds later the alien vessel exploded, lighting up the sky. Tom remembered how Ransom's Equinox exploded into a fireball. His tears ran like furious rivers down his face. "Bastards!"

"Stand down red alert," he heard Tuvok's voice. Tom was still shaking as he returned to Voyager.

Later that day he returned to sick bay. The captain lay awake, still exhausted, still looking very sick. Tom took her hand in his and just gazed very long at her. His throat worked, he swallowed hard. He didn't know what to say to her, didn't know how to offer solace, just stared, open, wide-eyed.

Kathryn Janeway sensed what lay in Tom's heart. She was no fool, knowing that he had treated her. She glanced earlier at the main biobed where Chakotay lay still unconscious. Tom treated her. Her shame at what had happened had allowed a tiny aperture in which her gratitude lay, a relief that they had been rescued, that Voyager had returned and found them. Tom was suffering too. She could see it in his eyes and felt it in the hand over hers that trembled.

"As long as I have my loyal, loving crew, Tom," she said finally, "I will survive."

****

END


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